Breakfast
by TrapezoidalGreenOnes
Summary: Sean McKinley's 'Welcome Home' breakfast doesn't go to plan.  Warnings for your typical Mormon point of view.


"Dad, what does gay mean?"

Suddenly, Sean realised that he really wasn't hungry. Not even the full American breakfast that had been cooked as a 'Welcome home' treat looked appetising any longer. He was vaguely aware of his father staring at Ryan across the table, his mother dropping her fork, and Amy trying to hint to Ryan that he should drop this topic.

"Where did you hear that word, Ryan?"

This was happening. Oh gosh, was there any chance that Ryan could have heard it at school? Or on any tv show? It had to be a coincidence, right? Definitely not related to the conversation that he'd had last...

"Sean said it last night."

He could feel everyone looking at him. Suddenly, his bacon and hash browns suddenly looked a lot more interesting than attempting to make eye contact with anyone.

"This is very important, Ryan. Can you remember the exact phrasing that he used that word in?"

"Yeah! He said 'I'm gay'. But what does it-"

"Sean. Is this true?"

He actually hopes that the ground would collapse beneath him, providing him with a shortcut straight into hell, bypassing this conversation completely. Actually, that'd probably answer that question for him. He knows that he's been silent for too long, and if it hadn't been true, then of course he would have spoken up by now.

"Dad, I-"

"Do you have any idea what you're saying?"

"I know that you're-"

"You know what the Books say. The second book of Nephi. Leviticus."

"I know the scripture, Dad. I've been studying it since-"

"Then why do you make these sinful choices?"

"It's not a choi-"

He hadn't expected to be cut off with a slap to the face. How could it be a choice? After years of trying to turn his feelings off, to fail every time - it couldn't be a choice. He knows that they're all staring at him. What can he possibly say before he'd get cut off again by his father?

"You know what will happen next, don't you? I get the joy of dragging my own son in front of my disciplinary council, and I don't think you understand the shame that I will feel on your behalf."

Was it possible that the reports from the apostasy trials hadn't made it over here? He's not sure whether to be grateful or not - certainly, this exact conversation wouldn't be occurring. His cheek was still stinging from the earlier blow - it would almost definitely leave a mark. He's not sure what to say in response to that. He could apologise, but he's not sure what it would be for, or whether it would sound sincere.

"Dad, I'm-"

"I haven't finished. Or would you prefer to go to conversion therapy? Clearly, you can't handle this illness by yourself - you need help."

He's only felt his father's anger once before, and that was when he and Steve had gone to the mall after school without remembering to tell anyone. The grounding had been bad enough - but that hadn't gone against any of his father's beliefs.

"Alternatively, you now have thirty minutes to get out of my life."

He doesn't even have to think twice. For the last two months in Uganda, he had been dreading the thought of returning home. Like so many others before him, his mission had changed how he viewed the world - and he had known the the new "Elder McKinley" would not be as welcome back at home as he had been in Uganda, which considering Uganda's views on homosexuality, was probably the wrong way around.

His suitcase is still unpacked from the day before - he grabs some more casual outfits from his wardrobe, which seem to clash with the many white shirts already packed. After a moment of thought, he also decides that taking warm clothes might be an idea (where could he go?). He can hear his mother crying from the next room.

Why did he think that coming out to his sister was a good idea? Apart from the fact that it had been 2am, he was jetlagged, he couldn't sleep... and he was tired of being someone that he wasn't. What was it that he'd always said? Lying is worse. Could lying really be worse than facing another disciplinary council, or conversion therapy, or being disowned entirely? He's pretty sure that question will stick with him for the rest of his life.

Twenty minutes later, the door slammed shut, and the McKinleys carried on as a family of four.


End file.
